


while you two get along

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Series: I'll be in the middle [2]
Category: Numb3rs (TV), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bondage, Fluff and Smut, Hand Feeding, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Post Mpreg, Rope Bondage, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: Malcolm, Ian, and Gil's commitment ceremony has finally arrived.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright/Ian Edgerton, Malcolm Bright/Ian Edgerton
Series: I'll be in the middle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701061
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	while you two get along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToriCeratops](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Tori!!!!!! Enjoy 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Malcolm smoothes down his tux again, turning sideways, his gaze locked on the mirror. It’s almost difficult to believe that his daughter was born only six months prior, but, as his mother told him more than once, Miltons had a tendency to stay small. Though he’s not _quite_ as skinny as he used to be. Both Gil and Ian were vocal about how much they liked the little bit of extra weight now that they’re both around to remind him to eat, and admittedly, he did miss the more regular meals he had with Ian in Quantico, so he’s maintained it. 

He brushes invisible strands of hair back and bites his lip. He hasn’t seen either of them since the night before. His mother and Ian’s parents insisted on the tradition, and Ian pulled Gil along with him, refusing to have to do so alone. Privately, Malcolm’s happy about that. It hopefully gave Gil more time to get to know Ian’s family, who, while initially skeptical, were overjoyed to have Malcolm join them even if he was bringing along another man. 

Ian joked that it helped that Gil was a handsome Pinoy like himself. 

“It’s never going to look perfect to you, dear,” his mother says fondly. She has his daughter, Robin, in her arms, all dressed up in blue to match her — Malcolm’s — eyes. They both know that the color might change, that it isn’t uncommon at such a young age, but his mother insists they’ll always be just like his. 

Malcolm leaves the mirror to take her back, laying a kiss on the soft tanned skin of her chubby cheek. She squeals and babbles at him. Her hair is already growing in dark underneath the floral headband his mother picked for her. It matches the flowers strewn around his childhood home.

Holding the ceremony here was a concession he willingly made when he asked his mother to plan the whole affair, and he doesn’t regret it in the least. Letting her have this softened her discomfort with his relationship significantly. The only restriction he put on her was the guest list. He, Ian, and Gil knew exactly who they wanted in attendance.

For Gil, it’s the team. Dani and JT and Tally and Edrisa are all here, and they’re mingling with Ian’s guests — the Edgertons, the Eppes and company. There’s also a camera crew recording the event for the Edgertons who couldn’t make it. Every single one of them is Malcolm’s guest, too, being the bridge between the two men and their lives. He kisses his little bird’s cheek again as he imagines walking out to see all of them waiting. 

He, Malcolm Bright, is _happy_.

Ainsley knocks on the door frame. “You ready, bro?” She’s wearing the same color dress as Robin, though there’s no headband. Instead, she holds a small basket of flower petals. If the three men (and their families) were patient enough to wait longer, their daughter would be able to toss them herself, but none of them were eager to push it off, and so Ainsley will be doing it for her.

With one last little squeeze, he hands Robin over. It warms him to see his daughter smile at his sister. She’s had plenty of time to get to know her family, both the Whitly women and her grandma and grandpa Edgerton, who moved close temporarily after she was born. He’s certain his daughter won’t ever lack for love. They’ve even introduced her to Jackie through photos, reluctant to leave out the woman who was so pivotal for all three of them. 

Malcolm knows that Gil believes his wife is watching over them all. He sends up a silent _thank you_ as he links arms with his mother.

His sister and daughter walk out first, Robin cooing in Ainsley’s ear. 

“Ready, dear?” his mother says softly.

When he looks at her, she’s tearing up, and, as she becomes blurry, he realizes he is, too. He bites his lip and nods. They walk together in a smooth fashion born of years of Malcolm accompanying her to this show or that event. The ceremony is in one of the larger party rooms. He knows from coming in this morning that she rented a set of chairs for the guests, all set up in neat rows and bisected by an aisle. He brushes away his tears as he catches sight of everyone watching Robin giggle at the petals that slip through Ainsley’s fingers.

Everyone is there. Most of the Eppes are seated on Ian’s side, right behind his family. Charlie is the first to notice him and his mother, and he nudges Amita, who turns to wave with him. Don must feel him shift, because soon enough, he’s sending a friendly smile Malcolm’s way, too, causing a ripple. Larry, David, Colby, Nikki — all of them see him in turn. 

Of course, Gil’s team isn’t slacking, either. Dani gives him a thumbs up, and JT rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, as a dolled up Tally grins and waves beside him. Edrisa is perhaps the most enthusiastic, practically jumping out of her seat with excitement.

Ainsley waits for the two of them at the end of the aisle. Her seat and their mother’s are ready for them right next to Dani. 

But most of Malcolm’s attention is up ahead. There, in tailored tuxedos Malcolm paid for unseen, stand Ian and Gil. They’re looking crisp and well groomed, and both have their eyes trained on him, are taking him in just as he does them. He swallows, not bothering to fight back the stupid grin that takes over his face. He absently takes note of Alan behind them.

The Eppes patriarch was all too happy to agree when Malcolm asked him to lead the ceremony. Alan, big supporter of love as he is, accepted their relationship before anyone else had, especially after taking the time to talk to all three of them to better understand it. He was the first person to come to mind. It only made sense. 

His mother kisses his cheek once they stop in front of Ainsley, who winks at him and hands over his little bird. Robin reaches up to pat at his face, clearly thrilled to be back in her father’s arms. The two Whitly women step aside to let them pass. 

Now Malcolm’s feeling the nerves again, the need to fidget and fix his hair, smooth out his tux, _anything_. There’s something about seeing both of his lovers waiting for him at an altar, makeshift as it may be, that lights him up. His chest feels fit to burst. He takes step after step forward until he’s standing between them, their little bird in his arms.

Robin babbles at her other two fathers and gets twin grins in return. 

“I first met Ian many years ago,” Alan starts, “and I had the pleasure of meeting Malcolm back in 2014. Now, I was only introduced to Gil just over a year ago, but let me tell you, these three? They have something special.” 

His speech is far from over, but Malcolm has a hard time focusing on anything other than the presence of his lovers, the knowledge that they’re standing here with their daughter, in front of all of their family and friends, making a promise to each other. He never expected he would do this, not with Ian, not with Gil, certainly not with _both_ of them. He never expected he would marry _anyone_ , honestly. 

Even in this, he’s no longer alone. It wasn’t that long ago that Ian wasn’t interested in an actual relationship let alone anything approaching this level of commitment. Malcolm knows Gil well enough to say there’s a high chance he never would have married after Jackie’s passing, either. It’s nothing short of a miracle they stand where they are.

Malcolm holds back a laugh when Robin tries to squirm out of his arms, tiny hands reaching out towards Ian, who scoops her up without a word, kissing her forehead before getting her settled. 

Regardless of the probabilities, Malcolm’s content with the life he has.

~

The party continues at the Whitly house. Not in the same room, of course, because his mother went all out for him, her eldest and only son, and so shortly after they three of them exchange tender kisses, the small group of guests is herded into a room filled with tables of finger foods. Servers dot the space, ready to refill plates and bowls. The centerpiece is a gorgeous three tier cake done all in white. There are swirls and flowers and bumps of white icing in delicate patterns on each tier with decorative pillars separating them. 

Gil gently entwines their hands as their guests begin to mingle. “Are you up for a first dance, kid?”

Malcolm nods. They discussed whether or not they wanted to do all of the traditions or not, and while he was half expecting his lovers to dismiss the dancing, he was pleasantly surprised when they didn’t. He lets Gil lead. He doesn’t need any guidance, not after the childhood he had, but being in Gil’s hands, knowing that they’re committed to each other now, brings more tears to his eyes. 

They dance slowly, lovingly in front of all of their guests. Ian’s watching, too, as he points and whispers something to their daughter. Robin follows their movements with wide eyes.

Then Gil passes him off to Ian, trading Malcolm for an armful of squirming six month old, and Malcolm is moving across the space again, feeling like he’s floating. 

Ian wipes away Malcolm’s tears when they’re done. 

It takes another few minutes for him to compose himself, huddled up with his partners and their little bird, their family and friends kindly giving them space.

Malcolm feels light as he looks across the room. Over by the cheese table, Dani and Nikki are deep in discussion. He has an inkling they’re bonding over their experiences as women in the force. A few tables over, JT, Colby, and David laugh about something, and when Malcolm searches for Tally, he finds her and Ainsley engrossed in whatever has managed to draw Edrisa, Larry, Charlie, and Amita into a conversation. The four of them look quite happy to answer all of their questions, and neither Tally nor his sister are hesitating to fire them off. It’s not necessarily the group he would have _expected_ , but the fact that they’re actually talking to each other is more than enough to make him smile. 

Unsurprisingly, the Edgertons are huddled over with Jessica and Alan, making up the parent group of the night. Malcolm starts to move towards them when someone clears their throat.

It’s Don. He’s grinning, eyes crinkling at the sight of all four of them together, his tie already gone, the top button of his shirt undone. “Hey. I wanted to say congratulations before you all were mobbed.”

“Thanks, Don,” Ian says from his side. He really means it, Malcolm knows.

Gil murmurs his thanks, too.

But Don doesn’t leave right away. “Can I talk to you for a moment, Malcolm?” 

With a kiss to each of his partners, Malcolm tells them to go ahead and join the parents. He can’t help but watch them go.

“I’m glad you three worked things out,” Don says as soon as they’re out of range. “Look, I just wanted to say that I’ve never seen Ian this happy. Not even after he got out of prison, if I’m being honest.”

Malcolm turns back to him, silent. It’s true that he and Ian were happy before his freakout and subsequent move back to New York. It’s also true that the longer the three of them have been together, the more at ease all of them have become. Logically, he’s known Ian long enough to know his moods, and yet, it’s a relief to hear his own thoughts confirmed by someone who’s known him even longer. “Thank you, Don.” 

“No problem,” he says and moves to join JT, Colby, and David. 

Before rejoining his partners, Malcolm just… takes stock of the room. Everyone who matters is here, supporting them, being happy for them. It’s a far cry from the awkward tension their initial announcement was met with over a year ago. He knows that his mother, for instance, still has some reservations, but she finds it within herself to support them regardless. He suspects it’s the same with Ian’s parents. If the way they’re talking with Gil now is any indication, though, they’re definitely fond of him now. 

He’s sure Robin and the love both Ian and Gil have for her has smoothed the way somewhat, too. Ainsley asked him once, quietly and privately, if he even knew which one of them was her biological father. Her question wasn’t judgemental but born from a place of curiosity. He told her the truth — none of them knew, and they had no plans to figure it out. The resemblance between Ian and Gil meant that Robin would look like both of them unless she took after Malcolm more as she grew up. 

She’ll always have _three_ dads. 

With a little detour to grab a glass of water, Malcolm joins his little family.

~

There’s no mess with the cake cutting. None of them are the type to want to smear it all over each other. Ian and Gil take turns feeding Malcolm small morsels, each one just the right size to be picked up and deposited by hand, and he returns the favor. Robin goes cross-eyed watching it all. The rest of the lower tiers are quickly divided and handed out by his mother’s staff.

His mother herself comes up to his table as the rest of the guests are digging in. “Gil, hand me my grandbaby.”

Malcolm raises a brow when Gil does so immediately. “What —”

Before he can finish, Ian pulls him into a kiss, a deeper one than what they shared at the altar. He nips at Malcolm’s lip when he pulls away. “The grandparents are taking her tonight.”

Gil’s hand is a firm weight on his neck. “You’re ours until tomorrow, city boy.”

They usher Malcolm across the room, saying token goodbyes to all of their guests, promising to see anyone who flew in once more before they fly back, but all of them wave the three men off with knowing smiles. 

Malcolm reddens. 

~

The loft is quiet. Tonight, there are no coos or squeals or cries. It’s peaceful, but Malcolm finds himself missing the noise.

Not that Gil and Ian let him dwell on it too long. They fit the leftovers his mother had packed up before they left into the fridge, and then they’re on him. As soon as Malcolm brings his hands into the mix, they’re undressing each other, tugging apart their tuxedos in a confusing mess that doesn’t let up until they’re all bare, clothes strewn across the floor. 

Gil is a hot weight against his back. He turns Malcolm’s head just enough for their lips to meet. Malcolm slips his tongue into Gil’s mouth, and Gil sinks his fingers into short brown hair. In front of the two of them, Ian sucks and bites a new mark into Malcolm’s neck before he gets down to his knees and lays a soft kiss, just a whisper of a touch, against his stomach. 

Malcolm whines into Gil’s mouth, toes curling when Ian chuckles and the puffs of his breath warm his skin. Gil tugs him closer. A tanned hand spreads out over the now flat skin that was once round with their daughter. It’s distracting, and Malcolm barely notices that Ian has disappeared, busy having his mouth ravaged by his other lover as he is. 

His reprieve is not much of one. Ian, a length of good quality bondage rope in hand, strides back over as Malcolm pants. “Are you going to be good for us, rich boy?”

Malcolm shivers. They’ve planned this. They’ve planned _everything_. “Yes, Sir,” he breathes out.

“C’mon baby,” Gil says across his ear, “let Daddy get you into position.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Relaxing as much as he can, though he was already plenty relaxed, Malcolm leans back against Gil as if to say, _do with me what you will_.

Gil gently shifts him forward until he’s standing straight up and then takes a small step back. Without a word, he guides Malcolm’s arms so that they rest on the edges of his back, setting his hands on his own ass, molding them to the curves of his cheeks. “Just like that,” he murmurs.

Unraveling the rope, Ian begins to wind it around Malcolm’s chest a couple of inches below the collarbone. He pulls him into a kiss as he hands the rope to Gil to do the back portion. The two of them work together for some time, gently wrapping Malcolm’s torso at even intervals of a few inches apart, each wrap anchored in along his back with loops cinching the rope around his arms. They won’t be going anywhere so easily. The last wrap lands right above his pubic hair. 

It’s not too elaborate of a position, really, but Malcolm already has an idea of where this is going. Until they remove the rope, he has no choice but to continue cupping his ass. He won’t be able to touch them. He won’t be able to touch his own cock. He _will_ be able to hold himself open to be used. 

Malcolm shivers. 

His partners swap places then, Ian at his back and Gil at his front. Finally, there’s a hand on his cock. Gil skims his fingers over the swollen length, and even the light touch of them is enough to make Malcolm groan. It remains a tease. Instead of gripping his cock, Gil moves lower to cup his balls. 

“Daddy,” Malcolm begs. They haven’t had the time to drag things out lately, and he’s not used to this anymore, not as able to endure it. 

Ian smacks the underside of his ass just hard enough for him to feel the sting. “Hold yourself open for me, rich boy.”

Splaying his hands across his cheeks, Malcolm spreads them. “Are you going to fuck me, Sir?” He looks over his shoulder and bites his lip in a way that always gets Ian going.

Gil strokes his dick, drawing a gasp out of him, bringing his attention back front.

Behind him, Ian chuckles. “Be patient.” Then there’s movement. 

Malcolm nearly falls into Gil at the first swipe of Ian’s tongue against his hole. “ _Sir_.”

Another swipe, slower this time. Ian traces his rim, but his tongue doesn’t enter him yet. He works him in tandem with Gil, whose touch drifts away from Malcolm’s cock again, until Malcolm’s fully leaning on his other lover, body trembling as he tries to push back against Ian’s tongue. Then and only then does Ian dip into him. 

Malcolm cries out. Gil captures his mouth and swallows the sound.

They move him to the bed then, switching sides again, and help him kneel on the silky sheets. They trail kisses down his body between the rope. Both stop short of touching him where he wants it most. 

“Please Daddy, Sir,” he babbles. His body feels taut, each kiss and caress zinging through him but not enough to tip him over. He’s going to have bruises from his own hands tomorrow.

“Do you think he’s been good enough?” Ian says and leans down to lick a broad swipe across a nipple, his tongue curling around the pebbled flesh. 

Gil sinks his teeth into Malcolm’s shoulder. “I think so.” He nudges Malcolm forward into Ian’s arms before getting off the bed to grab the lube. Then the teasing begins again. He takes his time opening him up, slick fingers rubbing but not penetrating much in the same way Ian’s tongue had before.

It’s enough to make Malcolm’s cock throb, however, and a smirking Ian takes care of that, holding the base of it with a firm hand. He keeps it there as Gil adds finger after finger at a glacial pace. 

“ _Please_ ,” Malcolm whines, or at least he tries to. Four of Gil’s thick fingers spear him open, his thumb caressing the sensitive rim.

“Okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He eases his fingers out to slick up his dick. When he finally nudges against Malcolm’s hole, he goes just as slowly as he prepared him, stopping every now and then when Malcolm begins to tremble too much. His hips graze Malcolm’s hands where they’re still spreading his cheeks. He pulls out a little and gives a tentative thrust. Gil nods at Ian. 

Ian starts stroking Malcolm’s cock.

Gil fucks into him, his thrusts unrelenting, Malcolm’s well stretched body taking him no problem.

Malcolm wails. His knuckles are white, his fingers digging into his ass as he spills hot and white all over himself and the bed. His breath stutters. Ian isn’t letting up. He can’t get a word out as he’s milked, Gil brushing past his prostate and Ian pulling every last drop out of him. His focus is shot. His mind is reeling. His cock is valiantly trying to get hard again.

He barely notices when Gil grinds into him, mouth on his neck, and fills him up. Gil stays against his back for a few minutes as they breathe together.

Then, for the last time that night, he and Ian switch places. 

“Sir?” Malcolm murmurs as both of his lovers ease his upper body down until his sweaty head rests in Gil’s lap. He blinks blearily and licks his lips at the sight of his dick, spent and slick with lube and come, an inch from his face. He sticks his tongue out and laps at it.

Gil strokes his hair.

Dipping a finger into his hole, Ian spreads the traces of Gil’s come around his rim. “You still good to go, rich boy? Ready to be filled up again?”

“Yes, Sir.” Malcolm’s eyes screw shut as he’s penetrated for the second time. He’s still so sensitive from the first time that he can’t help but spasm around Ian. 

For his part, Ian groans at the sensation. He hunches over to get a grip on the topmost knot on Malcolm’s back, careful not to pull anything that would hurt him. It gives him the leverage to yank his body into his rough thrusts. Ian works his other hand underneath them both. He finds Malcolm’s half hard cock where it was rubbing against the sheets, and he strips it to the same unrelenting rhythm. 

Gil cradles Malcolm’s head as he comes for the second time with a weak gasp, hands still holding himself open, riding out Ian’s pummeling orgasm shortly after. “I’ll be right back,” Gil promises. He slips up from underneath him and goes to the bathroom while the two of them recover. When he returns, he has a damp washcloth in hand.

Taking it, Ian pulls out of Malcolm and gently wipes him clean of the lube and come leaking from his hole. He passes it back to Gil. His fingers find the ends of the rope, deftly unraveling the loops and ties to reveal soft red indents across pale skin. 

Together, Ian and Gil roll their limp lover over so that Gil can clean his cock with soft swipes of the washcloth. 

“Love you,” Malcolm slurs, completely drained. 

Gil smiles and brushes back his hair. “Love you, too, kid.” He takes one of Malcolm’s arms and massages from the shoulder down to the tips of his fingers.

Ian does the same with the other. He soothes any and all tension left over from the ropes, from the grip he had on his ass. He shares a smug look with Gil as Malcolm sighs and relaxes into the bed. As soon as their lover is loose and languid, he slips off the bed and goes to the kitchen, pulling out one of the tubs of leftovers from the ceremony.

Gil gives Malcolm a soft, closed mouth kiss. “Can you stay up a little longer for us, baby?” 

Cracking an eye open, Malcolm nods tiredly. “Sure, Daddy.”

Ian pulls the lid off the container and puts it where Gil can reach it, too. He picks a cube of cheese first, some ridiculously expensive cheddar, and holds it up to Malcolm’s mouth. 

Their lover opens up and wraps his tongue around both the cube and Ian’s fingers. He hums as he chews. 

Next, Gil finds a chocolate covered strawberry to offer. His eyes go dark as Malcolm’s lips graze the tips of his fingers before he bites down on the red berry. It won’t go anywhere, not tonight. All three are too tired to go again, but it doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the view. 

Evidently, Ian is of the same mind. The two of them take turns feeding Malcolm until they’re satisfied he’s had enough. The container goes back in the fridge. In the morning, they’ll take it out again for a quick breakfast before they head to the Whitly house to pick up their little bird.

For now, they curl up under the covers, three bodies entwined, and sleep. 


End file.
